


Serenity

by neverminetohold



Category: Le Pacte des Loups | Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverminetohold/pseuds/neverminetohold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment of peace and the beauty of nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serenity

The forest clearing was filled with the scents of bitter herbs and flowers in full bloom under a sky that shone blue with the nurturing power of the summer sun. Bee's tumbled through the air, a constant buzz, that rivaled the cheerful twitter of birds.  
  
Mani sat cross-legged in the shadow of a holm oak, body and mind at ease. This world beyond the great water breathed more slowly, its roots wound deeper into the earth with age. Set to endure the shaping hands of the white men that worked it, less wild and free than the soil of Mani's people.  
  
The strength it offered a shaman was different, disturbingly so in the beginning. Now it was a comfort, another strong bond that tethered him to life. The one he had been resigned to lose the moment his hands had closed around Captain Boucher's throat.  
  
The wind picked up, a gentle breeze, that swayed branches and leafs. A squirrel's warning _kwa-king_ sounded angrily as a flock of birds rose; a nutshell fell from its paws into the grass. His own hair caressed Mani's bare shoulders, as lights and shadows chased each other over his upturned face.  
  
The heavy tread of boots moved ahead through the earth on which Mani sat, alerting him to another's presence, before Fronsac stepped out of the underbrush, a pencil behind his ear and his sketch book in hand. His trousers were stained with green at the knees and he had gotten rid of his dresscoat.  
  
A short moment of silence spread over the clearing before Fronsac was known to it like Mani had been, before nature released its breath of anticipation and returned to ease.  
  
"In deep debate with that oak again, are you?"  
  
Mani paid no attention to Fronsac's teasing words, though he heard them. The true meaning lay in the warmth of kinship underneath.  
  
He did not open his eyes as he said, “Has more insights to offer than the paint-faced men at your kings court.”  
  
That startled a welcome laugh out of Fronsac. “Truer words were never spoken.”  
  
Fronsac's shadow fell over him and Mani shifted slightly in anticipation as the familiar body settled down behind him; leaning shoulder to shoulder, back to back. As in many matters, they had learned to rely on the others support.  
  
Muscles tensed and relaxed, strength contained in fine Parisian cloth that shifted over tattooed skin as Fronsac searched for the most comfortable position to sit in.  
  
Not long after the noise of faint scratching, a pencil moving over paper, rose to mingle with bee's and birds and swaying plants. Broader and finer strokes, shaping and catching whatever his brother saw with his keen eyes full of a curiosity that would not be satisfied.  
  
Soon they breathed as one, the energy flowing around and between them, an endless circle.  
  
  
[ _Just as treasures are uncovered from the earth, so virtue appears from good deeds, and wisdom appears from a pure and peaceful mind._ ~ Buddha]

 


End file.
